


The Unwanted Quarrel

by turntochapter13



Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: A letter to all that self harm, Barry Allen Needs a Hug, Barry Is Not Okay, Barry blames himself for everything, Cisco didn't forgive Barry via Invasion Crossover, Gen, He ends up hating him for way longer, Not Beta Read, Not particulary graphic, POV Third Person Omniscient, Pay attention to the tags, Plz comment to suggest any missing tags, Post Flash-point, Season 3, Self-Destruction, Self-Harm, Self-Hatred, Triggers, Worried Cisco Ramon, aNd i DoNt kNow hOw tO geT oNE, be kind to yourself, but still, cause I don't have a beta, self-deprecation, trigger warning: self-harm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-20
Updated: 2018-06-20
Packaged: 2019-05-26 03:50:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,301
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14992112
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/turntochapter13/pseuds/turntochapter13
Summary: Barry can't forgive himself. It seems virtually impossible and it doesn't help that literally every one of the people he loves most likely just want him to die. He deserves it though.Cisco clocks out of STAR on a particular rough day and doesn't expect what he finds when walking down the corridors. His best friend- Correction: Ex best friend doing something that Cisco doesn't want to believe.This is a self-harm fic. Please caution yourself if this is triggering to you. Be kind to yourself.





	The Unwanted Quarrel

**Author's Note:**

> I will elaborate a little on why I wrote this story in the End Notes. Please use caution while reading. It's not really graphic or anything but triggers form differently and in all shapes and sizes with everyone and any particular statement might set them off so I want you to be careful. 
> 
> If you've read my other stuff then you know that my forte in Hurt/comfort and angst, but this is still treading on new ground for me.
> 
> Again, and I can't stress this enough, read with caution.
> 
> -Lili <3

 

Cisco hated him. He hated him more than he thought he had hated anyone in his entire life.

 Except for maybe Eobard. If he really thought about it, Barry and Thawne were very similar. They both got close to him, got him to open up to them, and then when he needed them the most, they weren't there. Sure, maybe Barry wasn't really evil, but he sure as hell was selfish. How could he refuse to go back and save Dante yet here he was screwing up the timeline, creating Flashpoint and he still says no? Such a got damn hypocrite.

 Deep down, if he paused to be reasonable; if he stopped think about all the consequences that could've happened if Barry agreed to save Dante, then he saw the faintest glimpse of sense in the idea, but that wasn't enough to give reason to forgive him.

 He just couldn't imagine it. Dante was alive. He didn't die in whatever timeline Barry had left to go stupidly save his mother. He was alive and kicking, fingering his beloved piano keys and enjoying what life had to offer.

 He knew. He knew that it would change everything. Still, he did it. That was probably the most outraging thing about it. Knowing that his brother didn't die, that he wasn't pulverized by a drunk driver and that his heart was still beating in that alternate range of existence, made his heart clench every time the thought entered his mind.

 It had been almost two months since Barry revealed to them that he came from a alternate plane of the same time, two months since he stood in front of everyone, a dry-erase marker in hand, tears in his eyes, explaining how he got here, how certain things were different, that he'd only tell them if they wanted to know. Of course, none of them did.

 And Cisco pitied him. He felt bad for him. Yah, he still was upset that Barry could go back and save his mom, but he couldn't go back and save Dante, but he wasn't as mad as he was when Killer Frost revealed how much Barry had truly changed.

 That pushed him past the breaking point.

 Everyone chewed him out, even Iris, and he took every mental punch thrown at him. He knew he deserved it.

 That gave Cisco satisfaction. That Barry was sad. That he was disappointed in himself--hated himself even. Yet, Cisco's subconscious always gave himself a pang of guilt for being glad that his friend was hurting, but Cisco was hurting too. Barry deserved this. _He_ deserved to feel guilty for the pain he caused all of his friends, Cisco shouldn't be feeling guilty.

 The young engineer was the final one to get a word in. By that point everyone had stormed off (or sadly sulked as they walked away). Now only Barry and Cisco confined the space of the dead silent lab, and Cisco let the pent up mental metaphorical bomb blow.

 He threw every insult he could think of. He even told Barry how much he reminded Cisco of Thawne. Sure, it was a low blow, but he deserved it--didn't he?

 By the end of it all, Barry was still mute, head down, salt flooded tears now streaked down his face silently as his best friend walked away. 

 

That was two weeks ago. Barry had been distant from everyone ever since. He'd show up when he was needed. He'd save whoever needed saving and then before the burning gaze of hatred from Cisco could seer too deep within him, he'd be gone.

 Sometimes when Cisco got too frustrated (which seemed to begin being more of a constant occurrence) with some kind of meta of some sort, the tension within would become too much and he'd pull what everyone called a "Harry" nowadays.

 He'd throw what ever unresponsive contraption that wasn't working across the room, or maybe just slam it on one of the steel tables in his laboratory and whenever Barry, specifically, was there, he'd do something weird.

 He would flinch.

 At first it was hard to spot, but after more stress was being added onto the already hard job of being part of Team Flash and Cisco would have to work extra hours and put in more effort than his body could physically take, the brief reflex that Barry had started to develop would become increasingly harsh and more noticeable.

 It made Cisco happy.

 He knew that was sick. Happy? That your friend is that afraid of you? Really? But he honestly couldn’t care less by this point.

 Another thing that was becoming drastically easier to catch was the worsening bags under his eyes and the way his already lean form began to lose more muscle by the week. His already light complexion seemed to grow even more pale and sickly and yet every time someone would bring it up with him, he would just wave it off like it was nothing.

 Whatever it was, it wasn't affecting his duties as Central City's favorite superhero so why was it to bother his ex-best friend, Cisco Ramon? 

 

Now here the young engineer was, the last occupant of STAR's main cortex, packing up his stuff. Caitlin had left a while ago, too tired to keep up with whatever she was working on. Barry had left after a seemingly rough meta fight and even worse encounter with Cisco.

 In Layman's terms, Barry had made an accident on the field that got an innocent killed and had the meta of their objective running for his freedom. Luckily, Barry got to the guy before he could get too far, but at the expense of one of the contraptions Cisco had specifically whipped for the enemy. The machine was practically mutilated.

 Of course, his works have been destroyed in "The Final Battle" before and he didn't really mind, but that, mixed with the death of a civilian and the already pent up rage he had towards Barry made him snap.

 Caitlin stood there completely mute as he screamed at the speedster for how bad he screwed up. He told him that it was all his fault that the poor pregnant woman caught in the crossfire died and that he deserved to live with that guilt.

 And yet again, Barry just stood there, silent and still, taking every mean word that Cisco had to offer for him. Finally the engineer stopped his rant, too out of breath and just plain tired, his old friend stiff and his eyes void.

 Barry took that as his cue that he was no longer needed as a mental punching bag and left. At least, that's what Cisco thought.

 The echoes of Cisco's feet against concrete was the only thing that broke the silence of the hall. He continued his strut for minutes until he stopped in his tracks. He heard something. A gust of wind?

 It was coming from the training room, (the one they apparently didn't have before Flashpoint according to Barry) but who could be training in there? What was it by now? 2am? He could've swore Wally had left mid afternoon.

 He wasn't really sure. He always lost track of the outside world when he was working on his projects. Sometimes, he'd end up bunking on one of the cots for the night after he'd realize that it was way to late--or early really--by that point to drive home safely without falling asleep at the wheel. He was usually the last one out of here so who could've possibly still occupied the gigantic STAR Labs after all these hours--except for maybe the janitorial staff, but why (and how) could they be making the noise Cisco has come to accompany with only a speedster?

 Still, the last time he checked, that group didn't even come in on weekends.

 Only relying on patents for economic support to keep the facility running after Eobards downfall, they had to cut back on a multitude of supplies. They were just lucky that they were in cahoots with a CEO of a multi-million dollar company who was more than welcome to help out a fellow vigilante crew.

 Unfortunately, Cisco's curiosity won over. He changed his line of direction, heading for the entrance to the training room only yards away really. He hadn't even realized it was that close till he heard whatever that noise was. Another waft of wind (okay. yah. definitely wind--maybe mixed with some sort of weird cackling sound? ) arose. He walked faster, eager to know if they had to deal with some kind of meta the next day or maybe even right now.

 He stopped and got out his phone, finger now hovering over the button that would alarm any member of Team Flash that he was in danger. He took the final steps. He crowned his head out and see what was going on in the large room.

 Barry?

 It was Barry alright. He was running in the track at the moment, but the familiar lighting trail that he left behind in his wake was apparent and pronounced. How long had he been at this? Ever since he left the cortex?

 The speedster stopped, walking, extremely out of breath, over to the stand in the middle of the room they had placed there for anyone that was helping with keeping record of speed. Of course, no one was there now, but the speedometer was in full function. Barry looked at it, gaunt face set in some sort of determination, and then he collapsed, holding onto the stool for support to overcompensate his now feeble looking legs pleas of relaxation. "Got dammit!" he whispered.

 He finally let go of the chair, letting himself sink down to the platform below with his legs on the floor to the side, the differentiating heights only less than a foot. He rested his elbows on his knees, hands carding through his sweat slick hair.

 He sat there for a minute, leaving a silence awkward only to Cisco.

 Cisco stood stiff, oblivious to what was going on or what to do next, but he didn't have to wait long. Before he knew it, Barry was ripping off his suit (he'd have to ask him later how he disconnected the vitals from the main computers in the cortex where Cisco was previously seated before taking this unexpected venture into the training room.) It was as though he was suffocating, breath harsh and unstable as yanked his arms out from the strong fabric. No matter how many times he watched it before, Cisco eyes widened as Barry became nothing but a blur and the next minute, he was in a STAR Labs t-shirt and gray sweats, still out of the breath that he usually would've regained or wouldn't have had a problem with at all by this point.

 He collapsed intentionally again onto the plateau, yet splayed out his legs farther away from the elevated level this time. Still he rested his elbows on his thighs, hands now covering his face. He remained like that for a beat before removing one hand and moving the other to his mouth. Now the tears were visible. That got Cisco's attention even faster than the noise he had heard that led him to this room in the first place.

 Previously unshed tears now tracked down the speedsters face. Though Cisco would deny it if someone asked him tomorrow, the action made his heart clench. Something that hadn't happened (directed towards Barry at least) since Flashpoint. Still he was curious as to why and more or less what was going on.

 Then something dawned on Cisco. Was this why he looked so crappy these last few weeks? Was he training for extra hours without anyone's recollection... to get faster? Faster for what though?

 His thoughts were cut off though as his attention was drawn back by a choked off cry. Now Barry's hands were wrapped around the nape of the back of his neck, head sunken low and face no longer in sight.

 Then they reached for Barry's bag--he bag that Cisco always used to tease him about, calling it a man purse even though he knew it was obviously a cross chest strapped bag. He had one of his own but still it's a little running gag for them.

 Correction: it was.

 He yanked it from the chair where it laid, eyes noticeably puffy and red. When it was in his lap, he unbuckled the clip before shoving a hand in with abrupt urgency. _What the hell are you doing Barry?_ , Cisco asked, but in his mind.

 Before he could register what he was seeing, he was met with, first, a gleam of blindness as the light reflected off the surface of something being pulled out of Barry's bag, and then second, the grim realization of what that something was. Barry retracted the sleek razor from a small container which Cisco guessed housed more identical copies of the same item.

 "Oh my God" Cisco could barely croak out with enough quietness to stay unnoticed. Barry rolled up the right side of his shirt to right below his chest, hesitating before taking the sharp edge along the side of his stomach. He was dead silent. Then he cut another line.

 Cisco couldn't believe his eyes. More importantly: why wasn't he stopping him? That thought snapped him out of the trance he wasn't even aware he was in. Barry was working on the third crimson line across when Cisco rushed out of hiding. "Hey! Barry! What the hell are you doing!?"

 To say Barry was shocked was an understatement. He nearly jumped out of his skin, bloody razor slipping out of his hold and clattering on the ground. He shoved his shirt down and crossed his arms across his stomach where blood was now slowly seeping through. "Cisco! What are you doing here? W-why aren't you home." he swiped hurriedly at the tears in his eyes as he got up from his perch.

 Cisco suddenly found it hard to formulate the words he wanted to express. "I... I-I wanted to get that update on the meta catcher app finished b-before tomorrow." Next thing he knew, Barry was packing his stuff, "I better g-get home. Have a nice night." he said grabbing the suit with a stiff arm. He looked like a deer in the headlights, ready to dart at any wrong word.

 "I swear to god Bartholomew Henry Allen, if you speed out of here, it will be the last thing you'll ever do." a sudden anger passed through Cisco, emotions now in a whirl and tears he wasn't aware off starting to form in his eyes.

 How could be such a terrible friend? But that's the thing. He hasn't been a friend to him at all. He's been so mad at Barry about Dante and about Flashpoint that he didn't realize he was hurting.

 _He deserves it for what he put everyone through_ , his mind tried to convince him but for the first time in what felt like forever, he really started to see that Barry was going through something too. He thought about it from Barry's perspective--he imagined what it would be like to have his father killed right in front of his very eyes, a vibrating hand going through the old man's chest. He imagined what that kind of loss would feel like--to be the last Ramon alive and to still have everything riding on him winning and in the end realizing what he did was wrong and then have to let his _mother_ die at the hands of The Reverse Flash again for what? The third time now?

 Barry halted, back to Cisco. He hesitated and then turned around, chin to his chest and not even trying to shield the bloody streaks on his shirt from his (ex) friend anymore. "I'm sorry. I was just practicing. I'll leave you alone to work. I know you don't want me around." the line didn't hold attitude. It didn't contain anger or annoyance--just pure shallowness, like he thought he deserved the treatment, but Cisco realized in that moment that he was the one that instilled that in him. He made his best friend think that he was worth nothing anymore--that all his good deeds were halted and erased with an erratic spur of the moment action that probably anyone would take for advantage out of adulterated humane emotions. He was literally asking Barry to do the same thing for Dante, subsiding any consequences because Dante was his brother.

 Nora was Barry's _mom_. Henry was his _dad_.

 He was snapped out of his sporadic thoughts by the _clunk_ of Barry's Converse's that he changed into, as he tried to make his way out of the room. "Barry!" Cisco shouted again, voice suddenly hoarse. Just like before, the other man froze, but he didn't turn around--he just stoop utterly still.

Cisco rushed towards him and Barry flinched as the man grabbed him roughly by the shoulders to turn his around, but before he knew it, the shorter male was wrapping him in a tight embrace.

 The speedster was stunned. He hadn't really expected that all. He thought Cisco would just tell him to suck it up. That's what he deserved.

 How he could be aloud to mope around--to be hurting when he's the one who caused everyone else's suffering in the first place? He didn't deserve this pity. He shouldn't be wallowing so why was he doing it. He was trying so hard to hold it in--encase it 'till it somehow dissolved maybe.

 That was the right thing to do. No one should have to put up with his problems. They aren't worth it. Still, he needed to find an outlet--no--not for him, but for the people who needed him--who needed The Flash. It wasn't a particularly new thing. Nobody knew that though--with the acceptations of Iris and Joe who both promised a very long time ago that it was something that only the three of them needed to know as long as Barry decided to stop. He did. He stopped.

 He had relapses--sure. His dad's death was one of the worse. He almost passed out from blood loss. Unfortunately, when he decided to go back and change the past so none of that would even happen, he caused all his friends to suffer. And then he started feel down and decided that he needed the relief. God--how selfish could he be?

 Barry was shocked when Cisco finally let go and stood back, tears in his eyes. He wasn't sure if he should speak so he stood there awkwardly, arms self-consciously wrapping around his stomach so Cisco wouldn't see the damage he did to himself despite the fact that he had given up the charade. When Cisco pressed up against him, it forced the blood to seeped deeper into the light fabric, making all of this this so painstakingly more real.

 The other man stayed mute as well, at a loss of words. His mouth moved around phantom sound, trying and ultimately failing to think of the right words to express what was running through his head. In the end, he settled on a simple question. He hesitated, switching his weight from one foot to the other repeatedly and running his hands through his charcoal locks to calm himself of the his overworked nerves. "Why?" he rasped out, choked up by the thought of his best friend hurting himself intentionally.

 Barry chewed on his lip, not exactly certain of the right words to use in a reply. Maybe he just didn't have to reply at all.

 He could speed out of here before Cisco would even comprehend what happened. He's done it before. _Yah, but what's the point? You'll have to come in tomorrow for Flash duty and he'll find a way to get you alone then_ , he thought to himself, reasoning pros and cons.

 He caved.

 "Because... I need... I-I need to feel some other pain for a change." he choked out, his throat swelling around a ghostly presence of dread.

 Cisco all but spoke up, trying to understand the almost cryptic statement. "If I... do _this_ it distracts me from all the mistakes I've made." Barry sniffled.

 Cisco let out a pitiful sigh. "Barry-"

"No I know. I know. I should just suck it up. I-I probably would, but I don't want my problems to get in the way of being The Flash. Central City still needs a hero--even if I'm really not one, my speed helps a lot of people."

 The engineer couldn't help but huff out a grim scoff. _Only freaking Barry Allen..._ \--saving people had to be some co-existing gene molded into his entire being. Cisco was certain of it.

 Passed Out in the midst of an attack- _Were there any casualties?_

 Broken clavicle, possible concussion, three broken ribs and a deep gash above the brow- _No. I'm not leaving innocents to die. I have to get back out there._

 Grieving and utterly broken beyond life's simple, get-on-with-it, it'll-get-better, repair- _I don't have time for my own feelings. The lives of thousands are at risk here! What makes them any less important than me?_

 "Barry no-"

"Cisco I'm sorry you had to see this. It's not your problem to fix. I've already given you enough of those-"

"Barry!"

 Finally the shaky babbling cut off, the speedster looking up, lips conjured into a tight line, and nose flared with a defiant stance against new tears threatening to fall.

"Just stop." he pleaded.

 He couldn't believe the words Barry was saying. He couldn't comprehend the vile, pure, self-hatred that oozed out of Barry's mouth. Was this really what his internal battles looked like everyday? Had Cisco really been too blind to see the self-destruction that his friend held for himself.

 "Stop." he whispered, attempting to sort out the words for himself, evaluating which way was the best way to go with this, because it had to happen. This wasn't something you ignore, something you shove under the bed or in the junk drawer in the kitchen, collecting dust and sub-consciously evolving into something worse over time.

 No. Cisco wasn't a kid anymore--he wasn't going to sweep the dirt under the fridge because he was too lazy to go find the dustpan.

 "Listen to me Barry Allen… _This_ ," he emphasized with a gentle grab at the speedsters stained white t-shirt. "Isn't the answer. You don't deserve-"

"God just--just enough!" Barry shouted, lightning practically radiating around him in an aura as he stepped back, fingers crawling back into his short strands.

 "Why should I get pity?! Stop pitying me! I caused this! You're hurting Cisco, _Caitlin's_ hurting because of me. John doesn't have a _daughter_ anymore because of _me_! I changed so many lives-- _so many_ \--and I didn't think of the consequences until it was too late. How do I deserve to be a wreck when I directed the boat towards the iceberg? Tell me Cisco! Why do I deserve any kind of solicitude for my own crimes?" he was a gasping mess by the time he was finished, ready to collapse and ball up in on himself, just to get away from Cisco's calculating stare.

 Before the Jenga game within his body toppled to destruction, the young engineer was at his side, wrapping him once again in a hug, encasing him In a warmth that hasn't been shared onto him for a long time, since before Flash-point, before all of this, when it was simply just best friends, fighting crime and geeking out over Star Wars.

 Barry's feeble attempts to free himself lasted milliseconds, giving in and letting himself fall apart in Cisco's arms. "Don't you ever... _ever_ think that you don't deserve love, or sympathy. Barry... you deserve it more than most." the shorter of the two stated, an own wetness finding its way, tracking down his cheeks.

 "Barry... you saw your dad die right in front of you in the same house that held already bad memories of your _mom's_ death. You couldn't take it. You snapped. You acted on impulse. I undoubtedly know that anyone in those same shoes would do that exact same thing--and you know what--you came back. That's the strongest thing you could've done. You knew they'd be gone again. Nora and Henry would be gone, but you did it anyway--cause it was the right thing to do, and I am so sorry for not realizing what you went through too.

 "I'm so sorry that I made you feel like you had to resort to _this_ , but you need to understand that it's not going to solve anything. The pain might go away... but for how long? The only way you can really let go is to literally let it go. I will say the one mistake you _did_ make was not telling somebody, _anybody_ about what was going on. It might suck to talk about it. You might feel ashamed, stigmatized even, but by speaking up about it, that makes you stronger than you've ever been Barry, and people will listen to you, _I_ will listen to you. We don't have to tell anyone else about this, but I need you to open up to me. I'm here for you."

 Barry's sobs had abated to sparse whimpers as he weakly grasped onto the back of Cisco's shirt for some sort of grounding he didn't even know he needed.

They stayed like that for a while, silent, yet knowing. Eventually, Barry decided it was time to talk to Cisco--really _talk_.

**Author's Note:**

> Through my life, I've seen many friends self-harm and sometimes it's hard to get into their brain and convince them that that path isn't the way out. This is kind of my way of telling that to those who intentionally hurt themselves in this fandom. Cisco is like my voice of reason so LISTEN TO HIM. 
> 
> I've also found that if a character that you love seems to be going through the same hardships as you, you retain sympathy for them and in a lot of cases don't get why the character would do that to themselves. 
> 
> Well you need to realize then, if Barry Allen doesn't deserve that kind of self-hate, no matter what you believe, you don't either. And the main thing is: you dont have to struggle alone, there's millions of people out there that are going over the same self-destructive tendencies and there are also millions of willing people out there for you to talk to about this. You may feel alone in a crowded room, but I bet there are others that feel the same and/or their scouting for people like you to help out and if you don't see anyone coming to you, then go out there search on your own. Save your own life. be your own hero. That would be pretty dope story to tell people--that you dug yourself out of the abyss of angst and self-hatred, that you were so strong that you saved a life--your own life.
> 
> You just have to let them in because the wall inside your brain that you keep all these dark thoughts behind can only hold up for so long and having it crumble to dust in one blow is way worse than getting a professional or a trusted friend to help chip at it with you, slowly letting down your guards so you can truly TALK to them. 
> 
> Please take these words to heart and consider what I've said. If you even want to talk to ME about it, thats totally fine. I'm not sure if there's a messaging sort of contraption on this website and if there is, then idk how to work it yet but you can DM me on my Instagram, @turnrochapter13. I won't promise that i'll answer in a heart beat, but that doesn't mean i'm ignoring you. I'm just an idiot who always forgets to check messages. :/
> 
> I'm not some award winning therapist or some big important...whatever, but I do know that people struggle through these things every day and i'll be damned if i'm just going stand around and watch them wither away. I'm just a teen trying to make a difference. 
> 
>  
> 
> Always Keep Fighting
> 
> -Lili<3


End file.
